


Rediscovered

by fromthedeskoftheraven



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Battle of Five Armies Fix-It, F/M, Family, Fluff, Foreplay, Implied/Referenced Sex, Kissing, Nudity, Parenthood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-21 02:39:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6034852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fromthedeskoftheraven/pseuds/fromthedeskoftheraven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chapter 23 of the Mapmaker Series. A human woman joins the company of Thorin Oakenshield on the quest to Erebor as a mapmaker and finds a lifelong love.</p>
<p>Dis babysits and the new parents have a romantic evening.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rediscovered

You perched on the settee in Dis’ sitting room, bouncing baby Frerin gently on your lap as he smiled and gurgled and kicked his sturdy legs enthusiastically. At four months old, your firstborn was a happy, handsome little fellow, with alert, blue eyes – so like Thorin’s – and a winning smile for everyone he met. Dis chuckled at him as she rose from her chair to answer the knock at the door. You smiled to see Tauriel on the doorstep, and stood, resting the baby on your hip, to greet your friend and kinswoman. “How are you?” you smiled, hugging her with your free arm as she embraced both you and Frerin. “Still feeling well?” You stood back to survey her midsection, where Kili’s first child was just beginning to make its presence known. 

“Very well, thankfully,” Tauriel replied with a smile as she took a seat, thanking Dis, who was pressing a mug of tea into her hand.

No one had been certain if it was even possible for Kili and Tauriel’s union to produce a child – there was certainly no precedent for it – but life had found its way, and quickly, and Tauriel’s pregnancy had forged an even stronger bond between the two of you. As foreigners in Erebor who had both had to adapt to your new community, you had become fast friends, confiding in each other on all subjects, from bittersweet musings about the adjustment to dwarven culture to blushing comparisons of your experiences in the marriage bed. Now, you were both thrilled by the prospect of your children being cousins and playmates, already envisioning the mountain echoing with their laughter and games.

“What is Kili doing today?” you asked.

“He is at the forges with Fili,” she answered, sipping from her cup. “They are helping to finish the hangings for the tapestries in the Hall of the Kings before King Thranduil comes.”

“Of course,” you smiled wryly. “I won’t be seeing Thorin for supper tonight, he said the council would be going over the arrangements until late.” 

Relations between Erebor and Mirkwood had thawed enough, in part because of Kili’s marriage, that Thorin had actually extended an invitation to Thranduil to visit the mountain, and now preparations for the impending arrival of the elven dignitaries occupied nearly everyone’s time.

Dis clucked her tongue. “With this visit to organize and a new baby, I’m surprised you two remember each other’s names,” she said, disapproval in her tone.

You shrugged. “It’s only temporary. We talk after Frerin goes to bed…for as long as we can stay awake,” you admitted, then added, with an encouraging smile at Tauriel, “but he sleeps longer between feeds now, it is becoming easier.” 

A familiar, decisive look had come over Dis’ face. “Why don’t I come this evening to sit with Frerin, and you and Thorin can have some time to yourselves? He’ll likely just be sleeping.”

“Would you really?” you asked. The possibility of a few carefree hours alone with your husband made you feel as though you’d been offered an extravagant gift. “Dis, that would be wonderful. Are you sure you don’t mind?” 

“Not at all. I am to have supper with Fili, and then I’ll come straightaway.”

After whiling away the afternoon with tea and companionable conversation as your son napped in your arms, you bid goodbye to Dis and Tauriel and breezed back to your chambers, heading straight for your bedroom. “Come on, love,” you said to the baby, going to your wardrobe, “let’s find something for Amad to wear, to look pretty for Adad.” 

Your eye fell upon a dark blue dress that was one of Thorin’s favorites, not least because it had once inspired a very pleasant dalliance in the council chamber, of all places. Blushing at the memory, you took the dress out of the wardrobe. Laying Frerin in the middle of the big bed to happily gum a wooden rattle that Bifur had carved for him, you tried the gown on and were pleased to find that it fit, aside from a bit of a tight squeeze around your bosom, now more ample for Frerin’s sake. Somehow you knew Thorin wouldn’t mind.

Dis had already arrived when Thorin came home, tired but smiling at the sight of his wife and son. “Hello, my beauties,” he said, kissing you and reaching to take Frerin in his arms, kissing his chubby cheeks as the baby cooed and grabbed fistfuls of Thorin’s hair. He looked surprised to see his sister. “Dis, what a pleasure,” he said, “what brings you here?” 

“She is going to stay with Frerin this evening so we can spend some time together,” you explained, and Dis smiled at Thorin, whose face lit up at your words. “I thank you,” he said to her, glancing regretfully at you, “I am afraid my responsibilities have forced me to be a neglectful husband of late.” 

“Well, go on, then,” Dis encouraged. “We will be just fine here, won’t we, lad?” She held out her hands to take the baby from Thorin, who handed him over with one last kiss to his downy head.

“Thank you, Dis,” you said, and, with a wave, followed Thorin out of the door.

Your fingers were entwined with his as you walked through the halls, feeling almost giddy, reminded of the days on the quest when the two of you would steal away from camp for a few precious moments alone. “Where would you like to go?” you asked him.

“Let’s go outside,” he suggested, “it looks to be a beautiful night.” And so you wandered in the direction of the Front Gate, talking about the day’s occupations, smiling at people who passed as you went.

“You look lovely, by the way,” Thorin said, with an appreciative glance at your figure.

“Thank you,” you smiled, adding mischievously, “I seem to recall you being somewhat fond of this dress.”

He chuckled, and nodded. “I have very happy memories of you wearing it.” He put his arm around your waist as you walked, drawing you closer to place a bristly kiss on your cheek, and you giggled.

You walked through the Gate into the sultry air of a warm, late-summer night. The black sky was clear and still, glittering with stars and lit by a full moon, and the soft babbling of the river sounded inviting. There was a gleam in your eye as you tugged at Thorin’s hand, leading him down a narrow path that followed the water to a secluded bend in the river’s course where the current had carved out a deep, still pool at the foot of the mountain. 

With a saucy grin, you began to unlace your gown. He shook his head, chuckling, but unfastened the buckle of his belt. You laid your dress neatly over one of the large rocks, still sun-warmed, along with your shift, and soon even your smallest garments had joined the pile of discarded clothing. 

Thorin was still shedding his many layers as you waded into the pebbly shallows, gathering your hair up into a loose knot as you went. When the ripples lapped at your waist, you bent and pushed off with your feet, spreading your arms, propelling yourself across the pool. You loved the water, and childhood summers spent sneaking off to the mill pond in Bree with your friends had made you a strong swimmer. Gliding through the water in only your bare skin made you feel like a creature born to the river, and you lay back to float peacefully, lifting your body toward the sky.

Thorin stood chest-deep in the water, watching you with a smile, and as you swam back to him, he held out his hand. You reached to grasp it and let yourself be drawn, like a leaf on the current, into his embrace. His strong arms encircled your waist and his skin was warm against yours, despite the coolness of the water. You felt a slight shiver go through him as your wet hands traced the muscles of his shoulders and arms. His gaze was loving as it roved over your body and met your eyes, the palm of his hand skimming slowly up and down your back as his other arm held you securely. 

“You are more beautiful than ever, amrâlimê.”

“You are the kindest and best of husbands,” you replied, taking his face in your hands, your fingers stroking his beard.

“I am only truthful,” he insisted.

You smiled and brought your mouth to meet his, and his hand crept up your spine to rest on the back of your neck, holding you as you kissed unhurriedly, nuzzling, tasting, parting each other’s lips. The fire burned between you, as always, but tonight, instead of raging and consuming it was slow, smoldering. Thorin’s touch was deliberate, savoring every caress. Your arms wound around his neck and his hand, low on your back, pressed you nearer to him, showing you his desire. 

He murmured soft words in Khuzdul against your skin, just as he had done on your wedding night and in nearly every passionate moment since, the tenderly spoken phrases intermingled with sighs of your name raising goosebumps on your body. Your fingers delved into his thick, soft hair and your lips brushed his earlobe as you purred your response, knowing how he thrilled to hear you confess your love in his own tongue: “men lananubukhs menu.” 

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes drinking you in as his chest rose and fell more heavily, glistening with droplets of water amid coarse hair. A slow smile passed between you. He lowered his lips to the tender skin of your neck, and his hands on your hips lifted you weightlessly and drew you closer still – close enough, at last – and only the moon and the stars bore witness to your love, even afterward, as you lay on the grassy bank to dry, sharing whispers and hushed laughter and sweet kisses under the wide, balmy sky.

Dis had the grace not to ask any questions when you came home damp, disheveled, and utterly besotted with one another. After tucking a light blanket over Frerin in his cradle beside your bed, you peeled off your rumpled clothes and crawled between the sheets and into Thorin’s waiting arms. You closed your eyes contentedly as he clasped your hand, holding it over his heart. 

“After Thranduil has gone, I want to spend every waking moment with you and Frerin,” he said softly.

“I quite like the sound of that,” you smiled.

“And I shall ask Dis to mind the baby more often so I can be alone with my wife,” he added, with a grin, and you chuckled.

”I will hold you to it.”

He placed a kiss among the tousled locks of your hair, sleepily murmuring, “men lananubukhs menu, my sweet.”

You smiled, and whispered, “and I love you.”


End file.
